


Allegiances Forged

by Nykizta



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Pre-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22990552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nykizta/pseuds/Nykizta
Summary: My take on Stiles' time with Gerard at the end of Season 2 and his interactions with Erica and Boyd, and what I wished happened.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

“I’ll leave you here to think about your choices, Mr. Stilinski. Maybe you’ll see the error of your ways, but if not, we can keep going with your…. Readjustment before returning you to your friend.”

With that creepy-ass comment, Gerard turned and went up the basement stairs. Stiles watched him go with glazed-over eyes. He was pretty sure he had at least one cracked rib, one broken finger on his left hand, and he’d twisted an ankle when he’d been tossed down the stairs - wait, that might actually be a sprain. He wasn’t sure if this was worse than having to swim while supporting Derek for an hour or not, but this was pretty damn painful.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on his breathing, shallow and steady to avoid aggravating the rib more than necessary. He needed to not pass out. Just because Gerard left doesn’t mean the danger was gone, and he wasn’t the only one in trouble, but he was the least injured.

Stiles opened his eyes and looked over at Erica and Boyd, both held up to the support beam with the electrified wire he’d tried to remove earlier; both had obvious wounds peppered across both of their bodies. Erica’s shirt was torn in the front and Stiles tried not to look too hard at her stomach, because he was pretty sure he would have been able to see her _stomach_. Like, the organ. Boyd’s shirt was more rag than anything else, and his leg was bent at an abnormal angle. Gerard and/or his boys had been having fun with them, clearly, and Stiles hadn’t even realized that they were unaccounted for. They didn’t deserve this, regardless of what they might have done or threatened him with, so he was going to get them out, if it was the last damn thing he did.

Stubborn mode engaged, assholes.

Breathing out steadily, Stiles shifted to his knees and paused, focusing on his breathing again instead of the waves of pain. He would not pass out, dammit. After a moment, he started shuffling towards the two other teens, holding his injured hand close to his chest while being careful not to bump it. Eventually, he was able to reach the car battery in the corner of the room. Clearly, Gerard hadn’t expected him to be up to moving around, because it was easy enough to disconnect the wires. Not that he didn’t shock himself a couple times, he just breathed through it. He had a mission, and he was going to get it done.

Looking over, he could see Erica passed out, but Boyd was staring at him.

Stiles whispered, “I assume you need a minute to get free, considering you’re not already loose.” No response. Well, alright. He started shuffling towards the two when a grunt sounded. Stiles looked up to see Boyd gesturing back to the wall where Stiles had been slumped before. Aha, clever. They’d wait until someone came down and surprise them. The words didn’t quite make it out of Stiles, as he chose to put what effort he could into getting back to his position. He arranged himself how he thought he’d been before. Then he passed out.

\-----

* _clomp, clomp, clomp_ *

Stiles jolted to awareness, wincing as his rib protested the sudden movement. That was going to suck for weeks. Stupid geriatric.

“Well, our session will have to be cut short for today as I have a more pressing engagement. My men will be down in a while to drop you off, Mr. Stilinski. Goodbye,” he said, like we’d had an appointment in the fucking principal’s office or something. But this was good. Psycho Grandpa was exiting the building. And he hadn’t even glanced at the hanging werewolves. That was something.

When Gerard left, Stiles noticed Boyd trying to rouse Erica. Her front had started to look more blood-covered flesh rather than fleshy innards, not that Stiles was willing to look close enough to be sure. It didn’t take long for her to rouse, and rouse thrashing.

“Erica! Erica, stop! We don’t want attention right now,” Stiles whispered harshly, rushing out the words and hoping she heard them. She did, and her eyes glued to Stiles.

“I managed to turn off the electricity,” he explained in a whisper, “and Gerard is leaving soon,” Boyd grunted and jerked his head to the side. Um, what the hell does that mea- oh, “He’s already gone?” A nod. “Ok, cool. He said his guys would come to get me and drop me off somewhere, so we’re going to try to have you two ambush them and we’ll get the hell out of here. Think you can help with that?” She looked pretty bad, but at least her legs didn’t look as messed up as Boyd’s.

Erica took a moment to look down her front, then she shimmied to gauge the rest of her body and nodded. Excellent, they had a plan. Now it just had to work.

A few minutes later, even Stiles could hear the sounds of moving from upstairs, so he closed his eyes and pretended to be passed out again. Shortly after, the basement door opened and he only heard one set of hunter steps coming down the steps. Everything was coming up Stiles!

As the steps stopped close to Stiles, he heard the groaning of the support beam as two werewolves pulled themselves free of their tethers. The hunter didn’t have time to retaliate, and the guy was out on the ground before Stiles could really process what happened. Erica was in front of him like a flash. Or was he losing time? Who knew at this point. Stiles let her help him to his feet, but waved her off once he was up.

“I can use the wall, but we need you to be able to fight. Or pick me up frantically and run out the door, that’s TBD,” Stiles explained-slash-rambled. Erica nodded, not responding. Though Stiles noticed that they’d both removed their duct tape gags.

They started moving up the stairs, Boyd and Stiles lagging due to their mobility issues. Halfway up the stairs, Erica and Boyd froze, Boyd’s hand landing lightly on Stiles’ shoulder to still him.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, still whispering.

Neither answered for a moment, their eyes tracking movements they were hearing. After a few moments, they both looked at each other, surprise filling their faces. Erica finally filled Stiles in.

“The hunters are leaving. All of them. Allison’s dad suggested that Gerard needed them, and that he could handle us. Once they left, he said we were free to go and left himself,” she explained out loud, though her face suggested she was having trouble believing the words coming out of her own mouth.

“Can you hear him anymore? Is he loitering?” Stiles asked warily.

Boyd answered, “No, he got in a car and drove off.”

“Huh,” Maybe Allison’s dad wasn’t a completely evil ass. Stiles would keep it in mind, but hold off on any decision making. But that insinuated existing later, which means not being here. “Well, that’s weird, but let’s not look this particular gift horse in the mouth and leave. If Allison’s dad isn’t an absolute creep, we can figure that out later. I’d invite you guys to my place, but you look like you should be dead,” he mused, looking at the blood-soaked teens.

“Let’s go to my place, it’s nearby and my room has its own entrance. We can get in unnoticed and clean up,” Boyd offered, and looked at Stiles. “Would you come with?”

Stiles started responding before his phone went off. Lydia. And a bajillion messages from Scott. Right, because shit was complicated before Stiles got to be the resident punching bag. He ignored the call, but shot her a text asking what was up.

“I have to get home ASAP. My dad is probably freaking out, and then I have to figure out why Scott is blowing up my phone,” Stiles said despondently, staring at his phone. Looking up, he tried to grin at the two other teens, though it probably came off closer to a grimace.

“Time to go save the day.”

\--------

Sighing, Stiles sat gingerly on the edge of his bed, cradling his clunky, splinted hand before lying down to try to find a position that hurt the least. He’d managed to hide the severity of his injuries until the morning after the warehouse showdown. His dad had gotten pretty suspicious after he’d thoughtlessly grabbed something with his left hand and yelped loudly. So now his ribs were wrapped and his finger splinted. Luckily, his ankle really was just twisted, so that would just take time. If only the pain meds would kick in faster, he’d maybe be grateful for the medical care.

Sighing, Stiles settled as he found a position that only mostly hurt. Which was subsequently ruined as his window was thrown open and he flinched. OW.

Glancing towards the intruder - intruders - Stiles grit his teeth and tried to relax back into the position he was in before. His guests stayed quiet as they watched him. Okay, creepy, guys.

“Hey, Erica, Boyd, what’s up? Did the pack reunion go well for ya?” Stiles rambled, trying to fill the silence. And hopefully distract from the evidence of how breakable the token human was.

“We didn’t go back. We just cleaned up and stayed home. What happened?” Boyd replied simply. Stiles furrowed his brow, finding it weird that every supernatural being within 20 miles of last night’s fiasco didn’t receive some magic telepathic message because of how bonkers this whole thing was.

Stiles let his head flop back on his pillow as he tried to summarize the night, “Well, Gerard was controlling Jackson, who killed himself and started changing into a bigger scarier lizard. Allison continued to be nutso and support her crazy grandpa until he and Scott forced Derek to bite Gerard, because Gerard has cancer and doesn’t wanna die. But Scott had been secretly working with Gerard due to blackmail or something and took the opportunity to dose him with Mountain Ash, so the bite was not the all-cure Gerard wanted. And I brought Lydia to the party so she could heal Jackson with lurve, and now he’s a real boy. Or, werewolf,” he paused for a minute, going through the events of the night again, before nodding. “Yup, that’s about it.”

“The fuck?” Erica whispered as she just stared through a wall.

“Oh!” Stiles burst, wincing at his aborted move to sit up, “And now Gerard is a leaky black goo monster, and no one is entirely sure where he went. Though he’s definitely gimpy.”

Stiles waited, looking at Erica and Boyd as they in turn stared at each other. Boyd nodded, and Erica turned to Stiles.

“We’d like you to be our alpha.”

“Um…. What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be a one-off, but the positive response has me writing more! Posting schedule will be once a week from Chap 2 out. 
> 
> Oh, if you have suggestions for tags, let me know! I'm used to searching by them, not adding them, haha.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolves explain why they want Stiles to lead them, and Stiles wrangles with his pain and who he could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comment! I didn't really intend this to be anything but a one-off, but the support poked my creative juices, apparently. So here you go!
> 
> I'm writing this sporadically, as I'm able. So apologies for the inconsistent posting that is likely to come. From here on out, I'll try to space out the posts to be about a week apart, that way I'll hopefully be able to backlog some chapters.
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcome and appreciated. I'm actively writing, and input could be fun. :) Oh, if you have suggestions for tags, let me know! I'm used to searching by them, not adding them, haha.

“You want me to whooda whatta now?”

“Our Alpha, Batman,” Erica repeated softly. Stiles just stared at her incredulously. But he was human. And breakable. And human. And Stiles. And had he mentioned human? When Boyd responded to his thoughts, he realized he’d said all of that aloud. The pain meds were clearly kicking in.

“We want an Alpha who will do everything they can to protect us. We aren’t even your pack, and you did that for us in the basement. And then went to help save everyone else’s asses. You may not have fangs, Stiles, but we feel like we would be safe with you,” Boyd explained in his level-headed, never-phased, stoic way of his. This was not a time for calm stoicity! 

“Okay, sure. I helped you guys out, and I would again, but how can a human be an alpha? There are, like, actual magicky dynamics and roaring and glowy eyes and stuff. You can’t just dub me an alpha, can you?” Stiles rambled, trying to think through the growing medicated fog.

Erica grimaced and replied, “Well, technically, no? But we were going to leave anyway, try to find a new pack. If we were going to be omegas anyway, why not stay with someone we trust instead?”

Stiles nodded and stared into space before covering his face with his good hand. Oi, brain not working hard enough for any sense to be made right now, aaaaaagh. Too drugged. Need a pause button.

“We can talk again another time, but we wanted to check in. Here’s our phone numbers,” Erica dropped a piece of paper on Stiles’ nightstand, “and you can text or call if you need us. We’ll be around.” She smiled at Stiles, then the two werewolves crawled right back out his window. 

_That was not a dream,_ Stiles thought to himself, _I am not delusional enough for that thought to have ever occurred to me._

Stiles as Alpha.

Who in the Nine Realms would ever think that was a good idea?!?! Sure, Stiles was protective of his people, and could be clever on occasion. But nothing to insinuate to a werewolf that he was leadership material! What the actual fuck?!

Groaning, Stiles started to throw his arm across his face, groaning harder as the movement made his rib throb, even through the medication. The world was a little too complicated right now. He would take the next few days to hopefully be a little less pain-filled, and maybe then he could think about crazy ideas.

\----

A week later, Stiles had texted the two delusional werewolves his number they day after they'd dropped by so they had it, but requested some time to keep thinking about it. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d reached out before he was ready, but it was probably the uneasiness of thinking that they had no one else they were willing to turn to. This whole thing was still so weird.

Stiles had gone on a research tear, trying to find any mentions of werewolves mixing in humans with their hierarchy in any of his usual sources. Unsurprisingly, he got nothing. And it wasn’t like he could just ask Derek or Peter without that conversation getting awkward and maybe a little pulverized. He wasn’t up to either option at the moment.

Sighing, Stiles looked at his phone. A week had gone by since the warehouse incident, and no one had texted or called Stiles. No check ins, no follow ups, no “hey, how you doin’?” How could someone as obviously forgettable as Stiles be an alpha?

But… He didn’t want to turn Boyd and Erica away. They wanted to be safe; he got that. They felt like he could help keep them safe; he really didn’t get that. Except that he got them out. Given, he never could have done that without their help, and they would have had to do most of the heavy lifting. 

Wait… Maybe that was it? He was willing to work with them. He may have started the chain of events that made them able to escape, but he and Boyd (and later Erica) had coordinated towards that end. Had Derek done anything but bark orders and demand things? Probably not.

Ok… If that was the reason, he kind of got it. Sort of. He still thought he was too breakable, but he felt a little less confused. Maybe it was time to actually talk to the crazies in question.

Stiles took out his phone and shot off a message to the both of them.

[to Erica, Boyd] 12:29 PM

_Wanna get some food at the diner to chat?_

Message sent, he turned to his computer to get his gaming on before his phone chimed. That was fast.

[from Erica] 12:29 PM

_Yeah, sounds good. Could we bring Isaac?_

Stiles stared at his phone, eyes wide as his heart started hammering. Did they tell Isaac? Did Isaac know what happened? Would Isaac tell Scott? Stiles wasn’t ready for Scott to know. Stiles may _never_ be ready for Scott to know what had happened that night. _Shit, shit, shit._

Spots started appearing in his vision and Stiles realized he was building towards a panic attack. Fucking hell. Putting down his phone, Stiles put both hands on his desk and started counting breaths, trying to slow them as best he could before he went too far to pull himself back. 

After a few minutes, Stiles let his forehead drop to his desk with a _clunk_ before jolting upright as the scrunching twinged his rib. For fuck’s sake! Couldn’t a guy sulk in peace?!

Sitting up and focusing on his breath vaguely, Stiles picked up his phone again and stared at the message for a minute before replying.

[to Erica, Boyd] 12:35 PM

_How much does he know about the other night?_

[from Boyd] 12:36 PM

_Just the basics. We were captured, you were captured, you helped free us, and you went to help with the crazy stuff. We asked him not to tell Scott or Derek, since we weren’t sure if you were planning to tell anyone._

Stiles resisted the urge to flop his head down in relief again. Because, dude, ow, no. But Scott didn’t know, and Isaac was asked not to tell. He guessed that was the best they were going to get anyway. At least Isaac had been less of a dick since he and Scott had started getting closer. The thought caused a twinge of jealousy before Stiles viciously stomped it out. Scott was his best friend, but he could share. And if Isaac was being less of a dick, the guy deserved an adorable puppy dog friend like Scott with the shit he’d dealt with.

[to Erica, Boyd] 12:38 PM

_Yeah, okay. Meet there at 2?_

[from Erica] 12:39 PM

_Yup! :)_

[from Boyd] 12:39 PM

_Sounds good._

Putting his phone down, Stiles turned back to his computer. He had a bit under an hour of video game time, and he was gonna use it, dang it.

\------

As he walked in the diner door, Stiles scanned the tables for - ah, there they are. They got the quiet corner booth, nice. Erica looked excited, Boyd looked like… well, like Boyd always looked, and Isaac looked like he felt the same as Stiles; confused.

All three pairs of eyes swung to him shortly after he’d entered (creepy senses are creepy) and stayed on him until he gingerly scooted into the booth. Isaac’s brow furrowed as he noticed Stiles’ obvious pain.

“What happened to you?” Isaac blurted. Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’ll explain everything if you promise that nothing passes to Derek or Scott originating from you without my consent, deal?” Stiles said, looking at Isaac sternly, no trace of joking. That alone must have weirded Isaac out, telling from his face, but the other boy nodded after a moment. Stiles kept staring at him.

Isaac huffed but said, “Alright, yes, I promise.”

Stiles nodded, then explained in detail the events of Warehouse Night from his perspective, from the lacrosse game to collapsing in his bed at the end of the night. Isaac listened to the story, staring at Stiles as his jaw gradually dropped throughout the story, butting in on occasion.

“You crawled across the floor with a broken rib?!”

“You left your house with what injuries?!”

“You drove into the warehouse with a broken rib and finger?!”

“You didn’t get pain meds until when?”

Finishing the story, Stiles noticed that Erica and Boyd were grinning, looking between Isaac and him. Erica piped up.

“You see what we mean?”

Isaac nodded dazedly and sat in the silence that dropped across the table before sitting up abruptly.

“Could you be my alpha, too?” he blurted.

Stiles threw up his hands in exasperation before wincing and cursing his stupid rib. He tried not to let his irritation at the injury spillover onto the others around the table, but he couldn’t quite manage.

“How the fuck could a human, much less a human as broken and as breakable as I obviously am, be your guys’ alpha?” Stiles hissed. Erica and Isaac cringed back, but Boyd didn’t react immediately. He was the one to respond, though.

“Because you’re willing to do what it takes to survive and bring as many people as you can with you. You can make hard decisions, focusing on keeping everyone okay, not just being a good person like Scott. You’re smart, and you’re willing to work as a team rather than just barking orders and expecting them to be followed. Maybe you’re not a leader in the traditional sense, but you are who we need, Stiles,” Boyd explained calmly. Stiles stared dumbly at the other boy.

He… But… How… 

Stiles couldn’t contradict anything Boyd had said. And didn’t really want to, because he liked the sound of the person Boyd was talking about. Stiles wanted to be that person, but…

“That sounds great, but I’ve never been an authority or a leader or whatever. You might be right about all of that, but if we did this, there’d be a lot of bumps and obstacles because I’m obviously not perfect. I will fuck up. There’s no maybe there,” Stiles countered.

Boyd nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but Isaac got there first.

“Then we talk,” Isaac stated. The other booth occupants all turned to look at him and he explained, “Well, that was a big part of our issue with Derek, right? Derek might know about being a werewolf, but it’s obvious he has his own issues and doesn’t know how to be an alpha. But whenever we had an issue with how he did things, he’d ignore us or yell at us to obey or whatever. So, you know, if you mess up or don’t know what to do, talk.”

Erica smiled at Isaac and bumped his shoulder with hers before turning back to Stiles expectantly.

Stiles felt like he was drowning. It’s not that he disagreed, but… alpha. Leader. Stiles being in charge was never really on the table… But why was that? He was a nerd, an outcast, he was awkward and mouthy. He was also everything Boyd had said, and he was willing to own up to his mistakes. That’s what these three needed… And he could be that.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naturally, the day after I posted my last update, I got laid off! Apologies for the delay!. Not going to promise a specific schedule going forward, just gonna focus on trying to keep the updates comin'.
> 
> I do want to give a heads up that my Stiles is definitely a bit OOC. Too calm and collected. But this is my fix-it fic, so I'm applying my adult life-skills to Stiles, lol. And then we shall see what happens!

It had been a week since the group had met. There was a group chat they regularly chatted in, about random nonsense, really. Stiles wasn’t sure if he should be doing something more, but figured that bonding was good, and the group chat was doing a little of that.

Stiles grumbled under his breath as he turned off his video game. He’d been avoiding thinking about this whole thing beyond the surface. He was the group’s alpha now, so that just meant he was in charge, right? He’d tell them what to do when needed or if they asked. Stiles scoffed. He knew better. He needed to buckle down and own his shit. He had agreed, and Stiles didn’t want to half-ass this. Time to plan.

Stiles pulled out a mostly empty notebook and shifted his laptop out of the way to place it on the desk. Grabbing a mechanical pencil, he started writing out everything that came to mind about why Derek wasn’t being a great alpha - not to rag on him, but to learn. And also listed what he thought would be good in an alpha.

** Bad Alpha **

All bark, no talk

Dictator

Still hangs out with crazy uncle

Doesn’t share info unless necessary

** Good Alpha **

Looks out for packmates

Personally invested in pack and packmates

Asks for help

Talks out issues

Answers questions

Stiles stared at the paper for a few minutes before nodding. He’d obviously need to add to it, maybe even ask the others for their input, but this was a decent start. He had a clear outline of things to avoid and things to aim for. But….

**Reasons Stiles Could be a Good Alpha**

Willing to be wrong

Willing to talk

In charge doesn’t mean yelling

Protective

Analytical

Son of the sheriff

As Stiles forced himself through the awkwardness to list out his alpha qualities, he heard his phone chime. He opened the text and looked down… then Stiles blanched.

[from Isaac] 7:13 PM

_Saw Derek. He asked why I smelled like Erica and Boyd. I told him they were still in town, but not rejoining the pack and then he left. We might need a plan for dealing with him sooner than later?_

Craaaaap. That wasn’t a talk Stiles wanted to have while his ribs were still throbbing. Or ever, if that was an option. Stiles couldn’t lift his arms above his chest without serious pain. But that was probably the biggest reason Isaac was right. They needed to go into that conversation ready and with a plan.

[to Group Chat] 7:15 PM

_Dad will be heading out in the next hour. Plan to meet here at 9 to play it safe. Use the front door._

[from Erica] 7:16 PM

_Got it!_

[from Isaac] 7:16 PM

_K_

[from Boyd] 7:18 PM

_Sounds good._

Stiles flipped to a few other pages to start making scattered notes and plans, but knew most would need to wait for the others. His pack. Right.

\----------

Opening the door, Stiles let Boyd into his house and locked the door behind him. In the living room, the two blonde teens were munching on the snacks Stiles had put out.

“If you guys can pitch in for the werewolf proportions required, I could order pizza,” Stiles offered, pointing to the coupons on the table. The others nodded, putting some cash on the table. Stiles wrangled the order, called to place it, then sat in his dad’s favorite armchair. Maybe he could gain leadership qualities by osmosis!

“So, Derek,” Boyd said simply. Stiles nodded and groaned softly, staring at the ceiling.

“Yeah, Derek,” Stiles repeated. He wasn’t sure how to approach this conversation, so he started babbling, “He’s an actual alpha werewolf. While you guys aren’t a part of his pack, there are some complicated mystical stuff involved with that. He also knows a lot of stuff about supernatural things that we don’t, so I’d like to avoid completely alienating him. But he’s also super traumatized and doesn’t tend to respond to things the way we’d expect. He also has Uncle Creepy by his side, who I trust as far as I could throw him. And the most complicated bit is that this conversation will involve him facing that the people he chose to be his new family have all chosen to leave him, which has gotta fuck him up,” Stiles trailed off, looking around the room. If the teens could tuck their tails between their legs, they looked like they would. Oops. “Regardless of how right you all were to do so,” he added hastily. He wouldn’t sugarcoat the situation, but they had done what they needed to for themselves. Feeling bad for that would be counterproductive. Not that the others had responded to his reassurance...

“Hey, no!” Stiles urged, leaning forward and flailing with as much restraint as possible. “Really, the reasons you guys didn’t feel safe are legit. Just because he also feels like crap doesn’t mean that he didn’t do crappy things. We have to be able to talk about both of them, though. I don’t want to make Derek the bad guy again, but neither are you guys. We’re people who want to live, alright? We accidentally mess with other people as default,” Stiles rambled, hoping it reassured the other teens. Boyd’s mouth had quirked up at one corner by the end of Stiles’ little tirade, and the other two were looking less like kicked puppies, so he’d count that as a win. He pointed to the notebook on the table.

“Let’s start with that,” he suggested. Erica picked it up and the others looked over her shoulder as Stiles continued over what he was sure was his pounding heartbeat, “I started making some lists, but I wanted input from you guys since I don’t know Derek as well. And given that we need to talk about him anyway, I figured we could get two birds with one stone.”

The others nodded as they read through the short lists before looking up with pensive faces. 

“Derek is emotionally unavailable,” Erica said, grabbing a nearby pencil to add that to the appropriate list as Isaac nodded.

“Yeah, if we were talking about training or strategy, we could sometimes get a decent conversation out of him. As soon as you started getting personal, though, he shut down,” Isaac elaborated.

Boyd added, “For a different item, he wouldn’t explain why sometimes when he hurt us.” Stiles eyes hardened and he could feel his anger rising at the idea that Derek had been outright abusing his pack, but Boyd continued, “Later, we realized it was to help us heal or for some training, but it was hard to deal with not knowing why our alpha had hurt us.”

Letting out a steady breath, Stiles glared holes into nothing as he tried to continue to practice his self-restraint. He was getting better at it, but…

“Fuck him!” Stiles burst out. “That’s not okay! You don’t just hurt someone without explanation! Especially not with an abuse victim in the pack, are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles raged, having stood up to start pacing angrily.

“He never did that to me,” Isaac said quietly. Stiles paused, looking over to Isaac, who was looking back at him sincerely. Stiles still wanted to rage, but he stood still for a moment as he tried to digest Isaac’s comment. The idea pissed him off. Abuse, no matter why or when, wasn’t ok. And when someone in a position of authority abused that authority, knowingly or otherwise…. Ugh, fine. Stiles sat back down and focused on his breathing again.

“That’s good, but it’s still not okay. But I said already, we know Derek has his own issues. So all I’ll say is that I will never let that happen without an explicit reason as to why you can’t have an explanation beforehand. And you will receive one at some point. That sound fair?” Stiles asked, looking at the other three teens.

They were his pack. He was already feeling super protective of them, as his outrage had shown. His pack. Ugh, it was weird, but he should get used to it.

The pack nodded, each smiling softly. Erica grabbed the pencil and wrote something else on the page. When she was done, Isaac looked over at the page and chuckled, nodding. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Do I get to know what you added?”

“Compassionate, under reasons you are a good alpha,” Boyd said after glancing at the paper.

Stiles groaned and threw his head back to hide his blush and complained, “Uuuugh, my pack is so sappy!”

Chuckles sounded, and Stiles was pretty sure they’d be able to pick up on his embarrassment, but also on the fact that he was pleased with the addition. Actually, no. No reason to make an ass out of u and me…

Straightening back up, Stiles looked at the pack and cocked his head to the side, hoping this wouldn’t end up super awkward, but here goes.

“How good are you guys at picking up emotions via scent?” Stiles asked simply, having scooted forward in his chair, trying to find that balance between engaged in conversation and not in constant, throbbing pain.

All three looked at him with a slightly awkward look. Huh, actually yeah. Boyd did look awkward to Stiles, but Stiles was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have been to make that out in Boyd's face a month ago. That felt like progress! However tiny the step, he’d take it.

“We’re all good at different things with smell, so it made training kind of hard. Derek mostly focused on combat training, but he did spend some time with each of us to work on what we were good at,” Erica started explaining.

“Huh,” Stiles said, furrowing his brow. “Remind me later to come back to that, but after the emotion-scent answer.”

As Erica continued, Boyd reached over to scrawl a note to that effect on the corner of the notebook page.

“Right. Well, I’m the best with emotional scenting,” Erica said. “I can generally pick up on the emotional responses during a conversation and am pretty decent at tracking potential causes, but I haven’t really been able to verify if my guesses are correct.”

Stiles nodded and looked at his hands for a moment. If this was going to work the way they wanted - the way they needed - he would need to push past the awkward and resist the urge to keep his vulnerabilities to himself. _Let’s go, Stiles. We’ve already committed, time to jump in with both feet,_ Stiles urged himself.

“Alright, so when you told me what you added to the list, what did you pick up?” Stiles asked. His leg was bouncing wildly, but he was otherwise pretty calm. It was weird, but pretty frickin’ handy.

Erica’s eyes lit up at his request and a grin broke out across her face before she schooled her expression back to a soft smile. It surprised Stiles; the grin hadn’t been mocking or vicious (not that he actually expected that from Erica at this point), just excited and anticipatory. She was getting to practice a skill in a way she didn’t usually get to.

“You were mostly embarrassed,” she started, still smiling softly with a little hint of teasing. Erica continued, “but you were also really happy and proud. Sound right?”

Stiles’ eyebrows crawled up his forehead and he blinked owlishly at the scarily accurate werewolf for a few moments before nodding. 

“Uh, yeah. Glad that's a thing you’re good at, but that’s also a little creepy. Useful and good, but weird.” Stiles ran a hand through his hair as his eyes slid to Boyd and Isaac curiously. “How about you two, where are you with that? What did you pick up from that same example? For real,” he urged before either could respond. “I want to get a good read for your strengths, so I want as close to factual as we can get without bragging,” he explained levelly. 

“I picked up on the embarrassment,” Boyd started, “but I could only tell that you felt something else kind positive.”

Isaac nodded, “I’m about the same, though I think I picked up on the pride a little, specifically. I’m not sure I could have put the right word to it without Erica having already pointed it out.”

“That's good though, right? Now you have a scent reference for that,” Stiles suggested.

“Yeah, which’ll help. And for the other scenting skills, I’m best at tracking with scent. It's more about identifying individual people’s scents rather than pulling much emotional info out,” Isaac said, then clarified after a pensive pause, “Well, unless that person’s scent is super saturated with an emotion. Like Derek, his scent always carries a hint of anger.”

Erica chimed in, “Oh, yeah. And even when I couldn’t really detect any active anger, it was always there.”

“Well, that sucks for him,” Stiles mused, grimacing. “Constant anger isn’t the healthiest thing. That’s gotta wear on him.”

Chuckles sounded from the couch as Stiles stared through the coffee table. Always angry, huh? That explained… a lot. It also wasn’t surprising, but definitely a bit sad. Stiles didn’t think about Derek or the Hales much; their story was so damn depressing. Derek didn’t get that option, though. And he didn’t strike Stiles as someone who was trying to move on, rather that he was stuck in the current.

“Alright, so Erica’s good at smelling emotions during conversation, Isaac is good at tracking and differentiating individuals’ scents, so what about Boyd?” Stiles asked.

“I’m good at picking scents apart and identifying them,” Boyd explained.

“What he isn’t telling you,” Erica drawled, looking at Boyd with a teasing smile, “Is that he’s a proper Sherlock with it. He can tell what someone’s eaten in the last couple days, if they’ve been in the library or working on cars, if they've been handling guns, or playing sports a lot. It’s pretty neat.”

Boyd huffed, but bumped Erica’s shoulder before lounging back against the couch.

“Well, that’s neat. Why don’t you guys train each other on your specialties?” Stiles suggested. He got three blank stairs before Isaac let out a brief _huh._

“Now you’ve said that, it seems so obvious,” Isaac groaned, flopping his head back on the couch. Stiles grinned, but didn’t say anything. They could figure this bit out themselves, or ask for his input. He’d ask them about it in a week if he hadn’t heard anything about it.

“Alright, now. Let’s talk about how to approach Derek,” Stiles said.

“No need, here I am.” Derek asked, his voice echoing down the staircase as he descended. His tone wasn’t growling, but just barely. His words were civil, but Stiles was pretty sure that Derek’s face didn’t have a non-murder-promising look. Fuck. They weren’t ready for this yet. Stiles' ribs weren't ready for this yet.

“Uh, hey, Derek. What’s up?” Stiles asked with a nervous grin as he slowly got up and faced the Sourwolf. This was gonna be greeeeeat...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuugh... This chapter was a bit of a slog to get written. It feels weird, but it gets us through the part we needed to get through. I probably need a beta for this, but not sure how to go about it. Until then, there's just me!
> 
> Thanks for reading. :)

“Uh, hey, Derek. What’s up?”

Could silence echo? Because, if it could, it was absolutely ringing in the moments following Stiles’ question. Stiles focused on waiting for a response and keeping a pleasant - or neutral, at least - expression on his face. He was crazy grateful that his rib wasn’t particularly painful today, though just thinking about it had made it start throbbing.

After what felt like an hour, but was probably only a minute or two, Derek spoke.

“Where should I start? Some of my betas left the city, came back, and didn’t tell me. Another has barely spoken to me since Gerard. Oh, and then I find them all here with you, and you’re discussing me. Maybe I should be asking you  _ what’s up _ , Stiles.” While Derek’s voice had started out even and level, by the end of his tirade (and also, that might have doubled the total number of words Stiles has ever heard Derek speak) Derek had begun growling out his words though enlarged teeth and with red eyes. He hadn’t moved from the bottom of the stairs and continued glaring at Stiles alone.

Stiles, to his credit, was mostly maintaining eye contact. And had not yet peed his pants, though that might have been a closer thing than he would ever admit to. Locking eyes with an angry alpha werewolf - one star, would not recommend. But… if he didn’t maintain eye contact, maybe Derek would glance at one of his former betas. The red eyes were just scary to Stiles; they might be able to command the teen werewolves. Stiles could deal with being afraid if it meant he might be able to protect his fledgling little pack. He also had a feeling that, as challenges go, this would be the easiest he dealt with. Practice time!

Before Stiles could put together a coherent thought, Boyd responded, “We were meeting specifically to discuss the best way to give you the explanation you deserve. There was nothing behind your back, Derek, since we aren’t your pack.”

Derek bared his teeth and growled… but hadn’t taken his eyes off of Stiles. Interesting… He also wasn’t responding.

“It’s hard to explain something we are still figuring out,” Stiles started, “I wanted to be coherent and not babbling like the jabbermouth you know I can be, so maybe you’d be able to understand where we’re coming from,” he finished. He mentally grit his teeth and tried to ignore the break in his voice and the breakneck speed his heart was just now starting to back down from. They’d been caught off guard, but this was important. Damn it, Stiles would make this work. “Where they’re coming from,” Stiles emphasized, finally breaking the staring match to look at the pack. Erica and Isaac shot him timid smiles and Boyd gave him a nod.

Looking at the floor for a moment, Stiles made a decision. He wasn’t his dad. He didn’t do very well at the rank and file, organizing, formal setting type of stuff. They needed to pull this out of the tense atmosphere of angry werewolves and into something more chill and casual, like maybe -

“Pizza’s here,” Isaac chimed. Stiles jerked up his head, fighting a grin (that he noticed Isaac was  _ not _ trying to hide) before turning and heading towards the front door.

“Want to join us for pizza and talk, Derek? Should be enough for you to have a few pieces at least,” Stiles offered over his shoulder, opening the front door as he finished to cut off any response. Naturally, he also managed to startle the pizza delivery girl by opening the door just as she was about to knock. Oops!

\------

As pizza was finally laid out on the coffee table, the snacks having been shifted to the dining table for now, the werewolves all dug in. That’s right, all. Derek had accepted and was now eating his piece of pizza slower than Stiles had ever seen a werewolf eat anything. Today was weird. This month was weird. Fuck it, Stiles and his life were just weird.

Derek had acquiesced way easier than Stiles had expected. Sure, Stiles had wanted him to accept, but Derek just didn’t seem the type to be willing to join a bunch of teenagers for pizza. Oh well, they’d take what they could get.

Soon, about half of the pizza was gone and the room was suddenly way too quiet. Stiles glanced around as stealthily as he could. Erica seemed to be taking a break, wiping her hands with some paper towels and leaning back, the other two still stuffing their faces. Stiles thought about trying to be all secretive and signalling her or something, but this was just awkward and they weren’t trying to hide anything from Derek.

“Hey Erica. Could you explain your side of what happened on Bat-Shit-Crazy night, and whatever lead up you think is necessary?” Stiles asked the girl solemnly. When he noticed how pale she went at the request, he hurriedly added, “As detailed or as not as you’re up to, we just need the basics.”

The eating paused and the boys looked in at Erica, who took a deep breath and nodded. Boyd put a hand on her knee and Isaac shifted his knee over to press against hers. Stiles smiled… they supported each other. Even if Derek wasn’t able to maintain the pack, he picked good members, and they had each others’ backs.

“After Boyd and I told you we were leaving, we grabbed our stuff and ran,” Erica started. “Allison and her dad shot and captured us. We were hooked up to electrical wires with a current in their basement.” Derek started growling and everyone’s eyes shot to him. He didn’t stop, but the growling got a bit quieter and he nodded to Erica to continue, so she did.

“Gerard and his guys messed us up both pretty bad,” she said with a grimace. She was staring at some unimportant speck on the coffee table as she spoke, avoiding any eye contact. Her voice faltered a little, but she pushed on. Stiles would have to thank her afterward; he was torn between feeling like crap for having her walk through it again and being grateful he wasn’t having to. He reassured himself that he’d asked her because she'd been one of Derek’s wolves and the story coming from her would have more impact… But that didn’t make Stiles feel like any less of an ass.

“I don’t know how long we were there, but they’d all taken a break. The next thing we knew, Stiles was getting tossed down the stairs.”

Stiles ignored the reddish-hazel eyes that he knew had zeroed in on him in favor of nodding at Erica’s questioning look. Yeah… What happened with Stiles was part of this, but - oh!

Stiles held up a hand to cut Erica off before looking to Derek to say, “Please tell none of the details about the basement or anything that happened there with Scott. If he ever finds out, I’d like it to be on my terms.” They locked eyes for a moment and a pause followed Stiles’ request before Derek gave a small nod. Stiles indicated to Erica to resume, so she did.

“They beat him up a bit before disappearing for a while. Stiles was injured, but he got the electricity turned off and coordinated with Boyd to take someone by surprise when they came down. Gerard ended up announcing that he’d be leaving the house entirely, did so, and we took out the next hunter that came down. Then Allison’s dad got the rest of the hunters to clear out and left himself. Then Boyd and I went home and Stiles went on to help you guys,” she finished.

Finally looking up, Stiles met Derek’s eyes before continuing the story, “And after I had gone to the hospital to get patched up, they came back to me to check in. And asked to become a pack with me.”

Derek just stared until Stiles last statement, then furrowed his brows at Stiles and said, “But that’s not what they asked you, is it?”

Stiles huffed out a sigh, leaning back against his chair. Looking at the ceiling for the right words, he was insanely grateful-ish when Boyd just said simply, “We asked him to be our alpha.”

Red eyes flared, but Derek made no move or sound for a few moments. Then, “Why?”

Leaning forward, Erica put a hand on the notebook that had been tucked under the coffee table, shooting Stiles a questioning look. Who immediately let out a dramatic wail (and concentrated on not accompanying it with a dramatic flail). After a moment, he flung out one hand and jerked it between Erica and Derek, covering his face with the other. This was embarrassing as all hell, but that page was literally the answer to Derek’s question… But uuuuuuuuugh whyyyy?

“So, what, I’m just your example of a bad alpha?” Derek growled from the black world behind Stiles’ hands. If only he could stay here, but…

Dropping his hands, Stiles glared at Derek.

“Dude, don’t be dumb. The stuff we listed there would be bad regardless. Well,” Stiles amended, “The Peter thing is very you specific, but that guy is shady as hell, and having him in a place of trust is disconcerting.” The pack nodded. “But otherwise, I literally barely started making that list. These guys were here to discuss and help add to it. Oh,” he paused, looking at the others, “I have an idea. You guys, what would you add to the Good Alpha side?”

“Specialized training for talents,” Erica responded instantly, grinning and tapping her nose.

“Combat training,” Boyd added.

“Empowerment,” Isaac finished, a timid smile aimed at Derek.

Stiles smiled at them before turning back to Derek, “See? So, no, you’re not just an example of a bad alpha. But you are my only example besides Peter of an alpha, and you were never my alpha.”

Eyes still blazing, but face neutral, Derek nodded, looking back down at the page. Silence dominated the room again, so apparently Isaac and Boyd took that as a queue to go back in for more pizza. Rolling his eyes, Stiles leaned back and waited for Derek to finish reading the short page. Maybe they could have a decent chat and heal or something. That’d be new.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the delay, and the short chapter. I wanted to post something, at least, since it's been a week since my last update. Life is a bit all over the place; I'm sure it's the same for several of you.
> 
> Also, I haven't mentioned this before, but this fic is essentially a writing exercise for me. I am absolutely awful at pursuing writing ideas, so having the once-a-week schedule and a fandom I love so much is helping me keep going.
> 
> Naturally, life and the world right now might make posting more inconsistent, but I will still be trying to post once a week. Again, apologies for the tiny chapter, but here's a chapter!

“We need to talk. Alone,” Derek said, finally looking up from the page and straight into Stiles’ soul.  _ Eeesh. _

Stiles’ heart started racing again and he struggled to keep his breathing even. His face was a lost cause, though, and he’d gone white as a sheet. Before Stiles could respond, Derek scoffed and said, “I have no intention of hurting you in any way, I just want to talk.”

Stiles looked at his pack, then zeroed in on Erica. She nodded in encouragement, smiling slightly. She apparently hadn’t heard or smelled anything concerning. So he should get over himself. This was a good opportunity… But his injuries were throbbing. Fuck, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to. He was going to, though.

“Ye-yeah, alright,” Stiles replied, his voice breaking. “But no crazy driving, alright?”

Derek nodded and stood up to head towards the door. Stiles stood slowly, watching Derek walk without moving until he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned.

“We’ll be waiting for you,” Boyd said quietly. Stiles nodded and pat his hand before turning and following Derek.

\-----

“I know I’m bad at being alpha.”

Stiles jerked in his seat, startled from his internal dialogue. They’d been sitting in silence for what felt like forever, but Derek had been the one to suggest this, dammit. Derek would be the one to say something first. And he did! Win! But, wait, wh-

“Wait, what?”

Derek growled and his grip on the wheel visibly tightened. Stiles could have sworn he’d heard creaking just before Derek loosened up. “I know I’m a bad alpha, but I did everything I could,” he said, so quietly Stiles almost couldn’t hear him. But he had. Huh.

“I know,” Stiles replied simply. Derek’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean, you knew?” Derek asked through grit teeth.

Stiles rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, duh. You had a healthy and happy pack once in your life, and I assume it was a lot healthier and happier, so I figured you knew it could be better. But your family died or went nuts, so I assume actually being in charge of a bunch of teenagers with their own issues was a bitch and a half.”

After several minutes of silence, Stiles stopped being able to not stare at Derek. Was he waiting for Stiles to say something else? Not that Stiles had any idea what that would be. Had to follow a “you messed up, but that’s okay,” comment. Actually…

“You messed up, and that’s okay,” Stiles said before he could think twice about it. Shit. And he’d been doing so well with his filter, dammit!

Derek scoffed as he pulled the car off to the side of the road in one of those sightseeing spots. Surprise, surprise, no other cars midweek past sunset. Hearing the car door open, Stiles started scrambling to exit as well, nearly missing the muttered comment.

“If it was okay, I’d still have a pack.”

Stiles frowned, looking at Derek’s back as he walked towards the railing lining the pull-off. Stiles hadn’t really stopped to consider how this whole situation might feel for Derek. Three of the four other people in his pack were actively choosing to leave him. Except… It wasn’t about leaving Derek, it was about having a leader they trusted. So, what if..

“What if you joined our pack?”


End file.
